


go forth young man

by galaxymuncher



Category: Secret History - Donna Tartt
Genre: Feelings Realization, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Other, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, but so does everyone else, implied/referenced drinking, richard is fucked up and needs therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25568137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxymuncher/pseuds/galaxymuncher
Summary: [take care while reading]take back what you lost, but don't forget where you started
Relationships: Francis Abernathy/Richard Papen, Richard Papen/Henry Winter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	go forth young man

Though I tended to keep a reclusive lifestyle long after I departed from Hampden, there were times I found that being around others was a blessing in disguise when the correct event is chosen. Several weeks before I had been taken out by Sophie, mainly cause she needed some company during the trying times between her new boyfriend and herself, just to talk. It was rather nice, between sips of fine wines and small talk about weather, living situations, and past stories of Hampden, I found myself wandering back and forth from past to present the whole time. She was good company, someone to talk to when the time arose, yet she didn’t hold much of a candle in my despicable life, thus she and I only saw one another once every 4 or 5 months.

Long after Camilla had left to return to her ailing grandmother, Francis had invited me to accompany him and his fiance to a dinner party they had been invited to.

“Oh I couldn’t”

Francis laughed a bit over the line, pausing for a moment, most likely taking a long drag of a cigarette he snuck out while she wasn’t looking.

“Why not? You’re not going to be a bother if that’s what you’re thinking, I’ve told you many times of how Priscilla absolutely adores you”

A pause. I thought for a moment about my options, either stay at home and work on my dissertation, or awkwardly stand around with Francis and a woman he didn’t even love for several hours.

“Fine, I’ll go, what time do I need to be there?”

“Brilliant, the dinner begins at 6 but we’ll be there around 7 or so since we’re meeting with some of Priscilla’s family before we head right over, does that sound alright to you, Richard?”

“Yes”

We said our goodbyes and hung up. I hadn’t been to a party in a very long while, not since before I graduated Hampden. Those nights floated around my mind like a fine mist, blips of bright lights, loud music, conversations I could hardly make out, almost like a puzzle half finished. Suddenly I was drawn to a memory of when I was in the midst of a party, Camilla had come in, asking if I wanted to come along with her and Francis to the country for the weekend. That was where it all began, the downfall. I wondered about if I had said no to her, refused her offer and simply stayed at that party, would they have still proceeded on like they did? Would the spiral unwind without me in its confines? I wasn’t too entirely sure but also not entirely persuaded of it being impossible either. Fate had a cruel and unwavering force about it, once set in motion it would never stop.

I looked to my clock, it was only 3, I had a large amount of time to kill before the dinner party, thus I decided to get a few chores done briefly before passing out for a couple hours, i had been up the previous night working, unable to sleep from a bout of insomnia. I was out before I could even think twice. 

Suddenly and inexplicably I found myself roaming around Hampden, a harsh blizzard rolling in with every step forward I took, blinding me until my foot managed to find a ledge just in time to stop myself from falling straight into it. Wildly my hands tried to wave away the flakes of snow flurrying around me, just as it felt as though there was a chance for the sun to peek through and reveal my location, there stood a figure in front of me, rather tall, not but a few feet from where I realized I was. Mount Cataract, the trail...the ravine just below.

“Bunny?”

My voice bounced across the landscape, Bunny stepped a couple inches forward, a familiar face splitting grin spread across his features.

_ “Why, if it isn’t the old Dickie boy himself! Come to finally grace me with your presence then?” _

He chuckled, his voice sounding miles away despite how close he was. As if in slow motion, he shook out his head to move his hair away from his eyes, I was stunned to silence, unable to formulate a sentence back to him. He raised an eyebrow.

_ “What’s with that look on your face? Was it something I said? Nevermind that, listen---” _

Two steps forward, my feet lurched a step back in response.

_ “---I’ve seen Henry here and there, the old bastard still acts as pretentious as always, but for some reason I find that there’s an air about him I can’t quite place, maybe it was something you all did while he still romped about, reminds me of our trip to Rome before it all went sour…” _

“Bunny…”

A hand waved me away, another step forward, another step back, my hands felt foreign, unusable, I realized they had lost circulation.

_ “Regardless, what I mean to say is that we had a good chat we did, over some fine Scotch while he smoked those cigarettes he so loves, you know those Lucky Strikes he always toted about, anyways I decided I’d forgive him for the whole ordeal now that I’ve had time to boil and simmer as my father would say” _

Talk? They had conversed? I didn’t think such an event possible, but in remembering some of Julian’s conversations about death and how apparitions made their rounds, I found a solace in the thought and let it be. Bunny sunk his hands deep into his raincoat pockets, looking at me expectantly.

“When was this?”

A small pause, his hand reached under his chin to scratch it in thought briefly.

_ “Oh some time ago now, hard to keep track of time when the days start blending together into a long, annoying one, huh Dickie boy?” _

Another laugh, more hollow, vicious almost. A feeling of discomfort covered the scene with a heaviness I hadn’t felt in years, not since the initial push, the sirens wailing from the ambulances, choppers flying high above, searching for the man we so carelessly shoved into death’s reach. Slowly I tried to back away from him, but found my feet no longer could move, there was nothing down there, no sensation, and that’s when I realized that my feet had also lost circulation some time ago. My vision cast back to Bunny, watching him inch closer, his features warping crudely. Skin blooming into a rather disgusting shade of blue and purple, nose now running with blood down his chin, falling to the ground beside him, neck bending to one side with a sickening crackle. Somewhere along the line his glasses had started to slowly slip off his face, lenses shattered into disrepair. Panic rose quickly in my chest, fight or flight kicked in, but I wasn’t able to bound away, my voice disappearing into my throat, all I could do was watch him get closer and close to me, grinning at me with his mouth full of rodents and bugs, crawling around aimlessly looking for some means of fruitless escape. As he seized my arm, his voice rang in my ears.

_ “Come now, did you learn nothing from my example? How gullible are you to think I’d ever even  _ THINK  _ of forgiving such a man as Henry Winter, for throwing me down that ravine and landing me in such a cold place for infinity? Sorry old man, but if any of you decide to rear your disgusting faces near me again? I’ll make sure I’m kept in good company” _

The loud ringing of my doorbell shocked me into the waking world, my breath laboured, sweat running down my forehead down onto my sheets, also soaked with sweat. Another ring of the bell, looking to the clock alerted me that it was past 9:30, I was beyond late and Francis was probably wondering where I’d run off to when I promised I’d be there. Quickly throwing on the nearest pieces of clothing, I rushed to the door to see who it was to find none other than Francis, dressed rather finely in an overcoat that draped over a rather nice suit piece, pince-nez positioned at the edge of his nose as they always were. Startled by my rather forceful opening of the door, he jumped back a bit, nearly dropping his cigarette.

“Good lord, Richard, I half expected you to ram your fist into my face with how quick you swung the damn door open”

“Sorry…”

It was all I could muster between breaths, thankfully they weren’t as laboured as before but not enough for Francis not to take notice.

“Are you alright?”

No use in hiding it, I explained to him my nightmare, ushering him into the room as I was doing so. He listened patiently, nodding every once in a while, eyes never leaving mine, making me rather fidgety for whatever reason.

“I’m sorry for not meeting you at the party like I had promised”

“It’s no big deal honestly, I half expected you wouldn’t show anyways, it was rather dull, drab conversation, familiar faces that my mother knew. I had a horrid time but Priscilla was living it up, talked to damn near everyone about our engagement but of course it made everyone around her stop talking altogether, I slipped out when a few of the guests started leaving close to 8, I bet she’s still there, asking where I scrambled off to”

He took the last drag from the cigarette he had, reaching into his pocket to retrieve another, offering me the box. I took one, letting him light it for me with the end of his. Being close I could feel the heat radiating off of him, there was a faint smell of rain and a gruff earthiness I couldn’t place, almost as if he had been trudging through the woods late into the evening. Francis drew back, carefully crossing an ankle over one knee, staring at the cabinets just within the doorway leading to the kitchen. They were rather ugly, beaten up from years of opening and closing, mossy green paint chipping away gradually, leaving broken spots that exposed the original wood used to create them. Ideally I would’ve liked to replace them, but the landlord insisted that I keep them as they were the originals from when the building was first built.

“Say, Richard”

“What?”

His head turned to look to me, half a smile appearing on his features.

“I’ve got an idea just now, if I may amuse you with it”

I shrugged, why not, it’s not as if anything better were happening anyways. He leaned forward at the table, elbows resting at an angle, just enough for his sleeves to fall a little, revealing the scars from his attempt all those months ago.

“Well, it’s been some time since we’ve made a visit to the country, now hasn’t it? Mother still won’t let the place be sold so it’s just been sitting, abandoned for all this time. I say we drive down there for the weekend, take some time to just unwind, what do you say?”

Blinking at him, I took a moment to process his proposition. It was indeed true, the last we’d all be up there all together was long before Bunny had been murdered, back in simpler, most picturesque times when I was young, dumb, and full of expetations and realities that quickly shattered not but a few weeks after. Francis and I had gone with Charles up there for the last time before Henry died as well, it just seemed that the aura of that house radiated misery, not somewhere someone would want to room for a weekend after all that happened on its grounds. He looked at me, following where my head seemed to turn, causing me to look up at him curiously, but all he did was chuckle and take another drag.

“Well?”

“Does Mr. Hatch still work there?”

“Oh but of course, old as can be, but he won’t back down from the pay, and certainly he wouldn’t leave such a building and let it fall into disrepair under my mother’s watchful eye anyways. Come on Richard, we need the break, you more so than anyone else---”

Carefully while I wasn’t paying attention fully, his hand crept atop of mine, throwing me off guard. The gentle touch, however, kept me from wrenching it away, instead just looking at them, wondering if he was going to yank me away into a blur.

“---Just trust me, it’s just for the weekend, and if you feel up to it, we can extend the time well into the week if you need it”

“Alright alright Francis, I’ll go, no need to try to butter me all up”

We both laughed, his hand lifting from mine as he leaned back, showing off his rather slim, but prominent, jawline. Faintly I was reminded of the pictures of busts that famous Greek sculptors would make of the gods, pristine, perfect, he wasn’t anywhere near that level of beauty, but in my eyes, his fox-like features were perfect, unique compared to all others. Handsome in his own rite. 

Minutes later, I’d packed a few belongings (clothes, toothbrush, a shaving kit, some paperbacks though I knew there would be shelves upon shelves to browse through up there) and began to head down with Francis to where he’d parked his car.

“Are you sure you want to drive down there? We could always take my car”

Upon hearing my offer he stopped in place, turning to look at me with a stern expression, all color threatening to drain from his face as he tried to keep composure.

“I would rather take mine”

And with that, not another word on the subject. I knew it was hard for him to accept that Henry had wanted to willingly give up his car to me, suspecting there were ulterior motives behind such a gesture. Everything with Henry was a frigid course of conversation, even though we were freely able to talk about his death and many parts about him without much hesitation, there was a line drawn at certain pinpoints, better for the both of our well-beings lest we wish to find ourselves panicking, frantically searching for his large frame looming in the shadows somewhere, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Conversation was scarce on the way over, small talks here and there, mostly the radio’s soft hum kept it from being completely silent. Just as I opened my mouth to ask Francis about dinner arrangements, he stopped the car. I turned to look where he did, finding myself frozen just as he was. We had arrived, the porch greeting us with a rush of memory, it was as if time itself had held the building in place, keeping it just at that perfect moment I’d seen in my dreams for years after the fact. Small vines had begun to creep up the walls, weaving in patterns around the brick.

“ _ Que c’est beau _ ”

His voice was small, all I could do was nod in return, thankfully remembering fair bits of French. We got out at the same time, examining the surroundings with such a hazed bliss that I had thought I was high on Demerol again. Francis approached the building, my suitcases in hand, grinning rather stupidly, beckoning for me to follow. He unlocked the door, throwing the door open dramatically. Stupidly I believed that we’d see them all, Charles in the common room with an ice cream float, just beside him his sister Camilla, head buried in a translation of some tragedy in hand, Henry just off to the side, also lost in the confines of his favorite literature, glasses low on his face from how close his face craned into the book. Bunny rushing down the stairs, recounting some story he’d just read.

_ To live forever _

Julian’s toast stuck in mind, reminding me of those nights we’d dined in the dining room with him, glasses held high to the heavens, the closest we’d ever been to immortality, or so it had seemed in my mind. We would never die.  _ We would never die _ .

“Richard? You coming?”

Shaking my head, I found that I had wandered into the foyer, standing there lost in my mind, Francis had walked up the stairs toward the bedrooms. Something felt cold against my face, I had been crying. Another tear fell as I turned to look at him, feeling a sob welling up in my throat. I didn’t answer him, afraid it would escape if I did. He frowned at me, clambering down the stairs to meet me. I tried to wipe my eyes, finding that it was getting harder and harder the more that they seemed to fall. Francis moved closer, pulling his sleeve up, reaching over as he dried a few.

“Shhh, it’s alright Richard”

Once again his voice was small, comforting, as if I were a young child that had lost my mother. Finally I couldn’t help but fall to my knees, covering my face as the sobs rang across the walls, echoing back to me like a broken melody, reminding me of my existence, how pathetic I really truly was. He squatted down beside me, simply placing his hand upon my shoulder before changing his mind, instead wrapping his arms around my torso to bring me in for a hug. I never knew him to be much of a comfort, Camilla cutting her foot on broken glass came to mind in that moment. How he’d been erratic, panicked, nearly passed out from the amount of blood that spilled out, but when bandaging her foot he spoke soft, reminding her how brave she was, it would be ok. I cried harder.

“Richard, it’s alright, it’s ok, tell me what’s going on in your mind”

My voice was broken, I couldn’t formulate a sentence without sounding like a scratched record, repeating myself, stuttering, but he didn’t seem to mind or care even. Finally, I had calmed down enough to say something coherent.

“I can’t believe how ignorant and stupid I was, if only I knew...if only I knew about what you were all doing in those woods, if only I paid attention more”

“Nothing would’ve changed either way, Bunny would still be dead and Henry would still shoot himself in the hotel, there’s nothing that can change fate’s mind, it’s course was already set in stone the minute we set foot here that fall”

Silence. I felt another fit coming along.

“I miss him Francis”

“Miss who?”

“ _ Henry _ ”

He looked away from me, frowning, but not angry. I too looked away, toward the common room again, spotting the chair Henry frequently sat in, spotting a shadow now slouched in its confines. Surely the light was playing tricks on my eyes, but no matter how many times I blinked it wouldn’t go away, smoke rising to the ceiling, one arm resting on the armrest while the other sat beneath his chin. I wondered what his expression was. Francis began to speak again, cutting into the silence.

“I miss him too Richard, but I know how fond of him you were, though I don’t know to what extent, either way, as much of a bastard as he was, there’s no escaping the charm he emitted every time you talked to him, even under several layers of ice he still felt more human than most people I know now”

The figure had disappeared while I had been looking at him, tears stinging my eyes as my hand tried to reach out, to grasp at him.

_ Come back, I can’t be alone again _

He was half correct in his assumption of my fondness for Henry. If there was one thing Camilla and I shared, it was that we could never have him back. What I wouldn’t have given to have him alive, if only I were quicker to the punch, I would’ve yanked his arm away, yelled at him to not do this. But I know, if I had tried I would’ve given in right away, there was a glimmer in his eyes that, in just the right beam of light, made him look softer than what his rigid features suggested, almost boyish in nature. Oh how I adored them. My heart ached every time Henry mentioned Camilla, how he looked as he snuck glances her way, the smile she could always conjure out of him. I envied her, but at the same time, pitied her. The winter Henry had saved me, those nights I spent in his apartment had brought me such comfort (but would never admit it outright) that I had even considered staying the entire semester, just so I wouldn’t have to leave, surrounded by him and everything that he owned. Every bit, mine, and nobody else could have it.

_ Henry? _

_ What? _

_ ….Nothing _

_ Surely it was something if you called my attention, now spit it out _

_ Really, it’s nothing, I can’t remember it anyways _

_ I see, well when you remember it then feel free to let me know _

I never did.

“Richard, are you going to be ok?”

My senses returned again, Francis had risen to his feet and was offering his hand out to me. I took it, wiping my nose with the back of my sleeve.

“Yes, sorry, I got lost in memories again”

“Seems to be a trend with you now”

He had meant it as a light hearted joke, but I didn’t find it funny, he rubbed the back of his neck nervously before continuing.

“Look, if you want to go back, I don’t mind piling back into the car and driving you home, though it’ll be a bitch at this time of night to get anywhere decent without paying extra---”

“Francis, it’s fine, we drove all this way out here to get away, let’s not waste it”

This seemed to lift his spirits some, thankful that he didn’t seem to offend me at all. He smiled, turning to head up the stairs once more, rambling on about the sleeping situation when I felt the impulse to grab his hand, so I did. He turned to me, startled by the action, face flushed a brilliant red.

“A-as I was saying---your room is still available if you wish to take it, but seeing as nobody but we two are here, then I don’t mind if you wish to take any of the others rooms---”

“Why don’t I room with you then?”

I laughed as he flushed again, dragging me along toward the hall where the rooms laid. I took one last parting glance down to the foyer, seeing the figure stood in the middle, hands buried in his coat pockets. I nodded to him, he nodded back, waving a hand in the air as I watched him turn away, departing from the room never to be seen again. Though, it wasn’t entirely true, I’d see him again soon, just not now, I needed to heal the wounds in my heart and he needed space to think on things, just as they were, just as they always would be.

We stood outside the door to where Francis would room for the night, still holding hands. I didn’t know why we were just standing there when I suddenly was faced with him, close to my face. We looked to each other, darkness covering our features, air heavy with something new. I finally leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips, instead of reeling back as I expected him to, he wrapped a free arm around my shoulders, kissing me back. To hell with the fact that he was forced into an engagement that was meaningless in the long run, forced to love someone he couldn’t, I wanted to steal him away, keep him here with me for as long as he would have me, only if it meant I could stay kissing him. After a few moments we broke away, still close, his breath smelled of cigarettes and cheap beer. What more could I ask for?

“Are you sure Richard? I thought you didn’t like me in such a way?”

“That was college, believe me, even then I couldn’t bear to even admit I had liked Henry, much less you”

That got a laugh out of him, he brought me in for another kiss, holding my face after we broke once more.

“Well then, let me ask you this again,  _ Cubitum eamus? _ ”

“Certainly, if you’ll allow me”

“Always”

Slyly, he turned from me toward the door, swinging it open as dramatically as before, allowing me in first before shutting the door behind us. We huddled close that night, it was only after the fact that I remembered we hadn’t eaten, but it didn’t matter now, we’d have breakfast tomorrow. His arms curled around my torso once more, bringing me closer, I held him as best as I could in our awkward position, watching him fall into slumber before placing a kiss to his forehead, closing my eyes as I tried to embrace what would come to me. Though, I could’ve sworn that before I had fully fallen into sleep that I had felt something cold brush down the side of my face yet disappearing before I could discern what it was.


End file.
